


flying on broken wings

by Isi7140



Category: Batman (Comics), DCU (Comics), Forever Evil (Comics), Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: #batfamcontentwar, Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Canon Temporary Character Death, Dick is Not Okay, Gen, Ghosts, Hurt very little comfort, Sorry Not Sorry, forever evil - Freeform, lots of pain, others are mentioned - Freeform, the briefest mention of DickBabs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-12
Updated: 2017-09-12
Packaged: 2018-12-29 02:30:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12072726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Isi7140/pseuds/Isi7140
Summary: The last few hours have been a nightmare for Dick. Kidnapped by the Crime Syndicate, his identity revealed to the world, beaten, broken, imprisoned in a deathtrap. He can’t move, can barely breathe--but Batman’s come for him.He wishes he could believe that that means he’s going to survive this.





	flying on broken wings

**Author's Note:**

> My contribution to Cam's batfamcontentwar!
> 
> I’ve seen several people writing about the aftereffects of all this, but I haven’t seen anyone actually writing this scene. So I had to. You’re welcome.
> 
> Warnings… well, this is a Forever Evil fic, so canon temporary character death, suffocation, lots of thoughts about death, a character who isn't actively suicidal but is… not entirely upset about dying, etc… let me know if there’s anything else I should tag :)

“Dick? Everything’s going to be all right. I’m here.”

Bruce. His partner. His father. The man who saved him when his life shattered, gave him a purpose and a home. Dick hasn't been Robin for a long time, but he still knows how to see past Batman's mask. And right now Bruce is terrified.

“Batman?”

Bruce brushes Dick's hair back with his thumb, like Dick's twelve and has the flu, not twenty-one and about to die alone. And even now, Dick can't help but lean into his father's touch.

For a moment, he's home.

“I’m sorry I shut you out. All of you. I didn’t want you getting hurt…”

Bruce is _apologizing_. He’s actually apologizing, and Dick really wishes he had a video camera so he could save this moment forever.

“I’m going to get you out of this.”

His stomach sinks as he remembers where he is. Grid had dispassionately explained the prison to Dick as it sealed him in, he knows what this is, and if Bruce doesn’t leave now, they’re _all_ going to die.

“No… you need to… leave. You need to go…” _...please, get out of here, before it’s--_

The cell door slams shut with an awful finality, the wires on his chest sting as they buzz to life, and the familiar beep of a heart monitor fills the room.

_\--Too late._

“What _is_ that?”

“It’s a countdown. This isn’t just a fancy pair of handcuffs, Catwoman.”

Luthor explains what Dick already knows, and Bruce’s face turns hard and angry.

“It’s a bomb.” _And Dick’s already dead._

Dick Grayson's life ended when the world saw his face, barbed wire around his throat and poison whispers in his ear, with his friends and family marked for death and his world destroyed and any hope he had left ripped to shreds.

No, that's not right. If he's being honest, he died months ago, in the lobby of Wayne Tower, with a sword in his little brother’s heart. He hasn’t been alive since that day, not really.

“You don’t understand…” He tries to explain, but he can’t get enough air and Bruce is speaking again before he can find the words.

“I’m going to disarm it and get you out of here, Dick.”

Alfred can't take another heartbreak, not after Damian and Jason and Bruce. He's patched them up night after night, their bruises and bulletholes, healing hands and quiet support--and he doesn't want to do this to Alfred, not again.

“Is the countdown monitoring his heart?” Selina asks.

“Yes.” Bruce’s voice is dark with fury--he’s figured it out, he knows how this works.

“Why?”

Barbara. Bright, shining, unstoppable Babs. The woman Dick's loved since he knew what love meant. Babs who joined their fight because she wanted to protect the innocent, who refused to fall to the darkness, who never gave up.

“The detonator is hooked into it.”

Dick breathes, forcing his voice to remain steady. He has to be strong.

“Batman… the bomb… it only disarms… if my heart stops. I die… or we _all_ die.”

Tim, who's lost too much and too many people for his seventeen years. Tim who turned his broken edges into sharpened knives. The brother Dick betrayed, who still somehow trusts him with his life. The only Robin left who hasn't died. _Please, Tim. Don't follow us. They'll need you..._

“Please… listen to me… you still have time to get yourself out of here.”

“I am _not_ leaving you, Dick. I am _not_ abandoning you.”

Dick’s heart breaks at the undercurrent of fear in his voice. “You aren’t, Bruce, and you never have.”

“The only way we’re getting out of here is together.”

Jason. Dick doesn't know what Jason will do when he finds out. Laugh? Mourn? Look for revenge? He wishes--he wishes things had been different...

Bruce pulls the front panel of the bomb off. He starts to disconnect wires, looking for a solution, but even from his perspective Dick can tell it’s useless.

He wants to tell Bruce _don't you dare. If I die here, I'm not taking you with me. The city needs you, the family needs you. Losing you nearly destroyed us before, and I won't let it happen again. I won't be the reason you die for real_ \--but he can’t find the breath.

Bruce curses in frustration. “No… the wires… every time I disconnect a relay, it fixes itself.”

_Bruce, just get out!_

“Then there’s only one way to disarm this bomb, Batman.”

Bruce looks up. For a second, his eyes meet Dick’s.

Behind him, Luthor aims and fires, and Batman falls.

Selina yells and turns on Luthor, but the… creature wearing Clark’s colors knocks her away.

...Damian. The Robin to his Batman. Damian who died protecting Dick, Damian who will be there waiting for him. After.

Damian, who he'd promised _never again._

But he doesn't really have a choice this time.  Or if there is a choice, it's not his to make.

Dying to save the world.  Not a bad way to go.

He flinches away against his will as Luthor approaches. Dick never asked Jason what this was like--he hadn't wanted to know, he didn't ask--and now--now--

“I’m making an executive decision, Catwoman. I’m saving our lives by ending his.”

_\--he can’t move, he can’t get away--_

Luthor presses his hand over Dick's mouth and nose, and--oh.

(For all his fear, the decision is surprisingly easy to make.)

Dick looks at his father unconscious on the floor. _I’m sorry._

Closes his eyes.

_Time to save the world._

He swallows the pill.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Grayson.”

The next minutes pass in a blur, his heartbeat betraying him and racing faster than it should. Selina is fighting to reach them, and he’s weirdly touched, but the Super-thing keeps her away. Luthor’s green eyes are hard, unremorseful, and the lack of air’s starting to burn.

_I’m coming, Damian._

Bruce groans and pushes himself upright just as a deep ache cuts through Dick’s chest. His heart hammers more frantically, the wings of a bird trapped inside his ribcage.

He'd been hoping this wouldn't hurt.

“Luthor, you hurt him and I will _kill_ you!”

_No--Bruce--_

There's a hurricane in his chest, pressure building and breaking, rising up his throat

a missed stairstep, and something thuds to a stop

the world tilts violently around him

a long, harsh tone drowns out the shouting voices

a tear runs down his cheek

someone's saying his name

he can't breathe and there's--

 

* * *

  
  
\--light.

He stumbles, the pain gone as quick and sharp as it came. His head rings with the dizzying echo of an empty gong. The first breath chokes off and turns into a broken gasp. Coughing, he reaches out to steady himself on the desk.

His hand is transparent, glowing a faint blue.

He almost laughs when he realizes. It's not like he was ever going to die in bed, and he knew this was going to happen as soon as the coffin clicked shut. Still, actually dying is a bit new to him.

(He only feels a little guilty for his relief.)

Warm afternoon light shines through the windows of Bruce’s study, the clock ticks quietly from its corner. A few Wayne Enterprises papers are scattered on the desk--nothing urgent. The room is quiet. Peaceful.

He’s still shirtless, but for the first time today he isn’t cold. His bruises are gone.

He thinks… this will be okay.

“Grayson?”

He turns around and-- it’s Damian.

The kid’s standing in the doorway. He’s wearing a hoodie, glowing softly, his face frozen in horror. He takes a step forward, then another.

“No, no, no, Grayson, you’re not supposed to be here, you have to go back--”

Dick crosses the rest of the distance, drops to his knees, and pulls Damian into a hug.

“I missed you so much.”

Damian hugs him back despite his protests, warm and real in his arms, and Dick’s heart breaks with the joy of it.

"What happened? Who--"

"Not right now, Damian. Just..." He holds the kid tighter, he never wants to let go, but Damian pushes away to look him desperately in the eyes.

“No, Richard, _you have to go back, you can’t be here!_ ”

He laughs a little. “I didn’t really have a choice, Damian. It looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Damian deflates a little at that. “I never wanted…”

“I know. I never wanted this for you, either. But we’re together now, and it’s going to be all right.”

Dick stands up, taking his little brother’s hands. Something like hope fills his heart.

"We were the best, Damian." The kid smiles at that, brief and bright as the sun breaking through the storm. "We're the best, and not even death will keep us--"

 

* * *

 

_Pain._

Everything is pain and Damian is gone and a fiery drumbeat is hammering in his ears as he chokes on air. His chest burns like someone's poured acid into his lungs and heart, he can’t see, and he crumples forward--

\--into his father’s arms.

Bruce pulls him out of the coffin and into a hug, tight but gentle, and Dick can almost forget the nightmare of the last few hours and the tearing in his heart of losing his little brother again.

Later, when Bruce asks him to stay dead, Dick can’t bring himself to refuse.

Deep cover, constant danger, completely alone--it’s easier than pretending to live.

After all, he’s already dead.

**Author's Note:**

> I’ve been working on this for some time, and the war was exactly what I needed to get this done! Thanks to Cam for everything, and to Hedgi for looking this over for me. Also shout-out to scriptmedic on tumblr for helping me try to squeeze some accuracy out of comic book medical science!
> 
> Please let me know what you think!


End file.
